Tag Archives: virgin

In Nomine Babalon, XLI

XLI

Mother of nature and womb of all life,

Everyone’s lover but nobody’s wife!

Thou virgin! Thou whore! Thou elder matron!

I raise up the cup and adore Babalon!

— In Nomine Babalon: 156 Adorations to the Scarlet Goddess

 

The Hermetic Library arts and letters pool is a project to publish poetry, prose and art that is inspired by or manifests the Western Esoteric Tradition. If you would like to submit your work for consideration as part of the Arts and Letters pool, contact the librarian.

In Nomine Babalon, XXXVI

XXXVI

Anoint me with oil of galangal and myrrh

And oil of olives kept virgin and pure

With the fiery spirit of cinnamon;

I raise up the cup and adore Babalon!

— In Nomine Babalon: 156 Adorations to the Scarlet Goddess

 

The Hermetic Library arts and letters pool is a project to publish poetry, prose and art that is inspired by or manifests the Western Esoteric Tradition. If you would like to submit your work for consideration as part of the Arts and Letters pool, contact the librarian.

In Nomine Babalon, XXII

XXII

Oh virgin who sits in Her garden of wheat

With the shield of the Empress set at Her feet,

The form of the double-head eagle thereon;

I raise up the cup and adore Babalon!

— In Nomine Babalon: 156 Adorations to the Scarlet Goddess

 

The Hermetic Library arts and letters pool is a project to publish poetry, prose and art that is inspired by or manifests the Western Esoteric Tradition.

In Nomine Babalon, VII

VII

Thou virgin so pure, it is Thee I adore,

Thou art seven in one and one in four!

O mother of nature, I thee call upon;

I raise up the cup and adore Babalon!

— In Nomine Babalon: 156 Adorations to the Scarlet Goddess

 

The Hermetic Library arts and letters pool is a project to publish poetry, prose and art that is inspired by or manifests the Western Esoteric Tradition.

The Nameless Quest in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

“A spirit walking in a dream, I went
To the high throne&mdsah;they shook the firmament
With foolish cheers. I knelt before the queen
And wept in silence. Then, as it had been
And angel’s voice and touch, her face she bent,
Lifted and kissed me&mdsah;oh! her lips were keen!
Her voice was softer than a virgin’s eyes:
‘Go! my true knight: for thither, thither lies
The only road for thee; thou hast a prayer
Wafted each hour&mdsah;my spirit will be there!’
Too late I knew what subtle Paradise
Her dreams and prayers portend: too fresh, too fair!
I turned more wretched than myself knew yet.
I told my nameless pain I should forget
Its shadow as it passed.” [via]

The Lesbian Hell in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

“Let the ripe kisses of your thirsty throats
And beating blossoms of your breath, and flowers
Of swart illimitable hair that floats
Vague and caressing, and the amorous powers
Of your unceasing hours,
The rich hot fragrance of your dewy skins,
The eyes that yearn, the breasts that bleed, the thighs
That cling and cluster to these infinite sins,
Forget the earthlier pleasures of the prize,
And raise diviner sighs;
Cling to the white and bloody feet that hang,
And drink the purple of a God’s pure side;
With your wild hair assuage His deadliest pang,
And on His broken bosom still abide
His virginal white bride.” [via]